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Picture it…it’s 3:00 AM and you’re dead asleep in your bed when you hear some scratching sounds at your window. You turn in your bed, open your eyes, and see two black things on the window screen. “Birds? At this hour?” you think to yourself. You sit up in bed, turn on the light, and that’s when those two black things take flight – straight at you. You scream like a baby, run down the stairs, and hide in the corner of your house while you try to figure out who the hell you’re going to call in the middle of the night to get the bats out of your house.

That’s what happened to my mom the other night. Poor Mamacita has been sharing her lovely country home with a colony of brown bats. Not a handful of them. A colony. That’s a whole COLONY of bats. Yeah, so that’s not really awesome – and in related news I won’t be heading down to Baltimore anytime soon. Since that first night when the two bats decided to dive bomb her in the middle of the night, they’ve removed four bats from her house.

Four different companies have come out to do assessments and give estimates.

The first dudes jacked up the job in a major way and then over charged her. Mainly because they’re giant assholes. On the bright side, she can totally sue them for everything they’re worth because they killed TWO bats in front of her – which is a felony.

The second company was kind enough to tell her that the first company did a shitty job, and then gave her a ridiculous amount as an estimate.

Company number three sent out a dude who may have sniffed too much glue as a child. His response was, “I don’t see any bats. So maybe they’re gone. Maybe let’s wait to see if you see anymore, and if you do, then we know you have some bats.” Really?

The final company seems to be the most reasonable. They put all their little bat traps up today and expect the COLONY of bats to be gone within the next few days.

Who knew that getting rid of bats in your home would be so complicated? First of all, they’re protected – you can’t kill them. And even if you could, why would you want to? Their poor rotting bodies would be in your walls and they’d stink up your whole house. Second, they can crawl into a space as long as there’s a hole the size of a pen. Do you know how many holes you have in your house that are that size? A lot. Good luck finding them all.

My poor mother has taken refuge at my sister’s house until the bat situation is taken care of. A house full of bats, or a house with Damien and Lucy(fer). Wow, that’s like Sophie’s choice right there.

No, it’s not because Office Adonis finally made his move (though I’m working on that) or because Boom Boom made me a Miralax Margarita as a little joke.

Picture this…

Three hot girls driving around in a brand spanking new SUV in Philadelphia at 1:00 in the morning. Two of these girls are drunk messes, one of these is a responsible young lass who cares so much about her drunk whore friends that she offered to drive home. And maybe part of the reason she wanted to drive home is because she’s got a touch of new car envy. Four blocks out of the parking lot and suddenly red and white lights and a big fat fucking siren pull out of nowhere.

The second I saw those in the rearview mirror I seriously felt my ass clench. I was sure that I was going to poo myself in Boom Boom’s sweet ride. How would that look if the cop made me get out of the car and I had a trail of poo down my leg? Not good, not good at all. As I was rifling through my bag, I started to recite the alphabet backwards. You know how freaking hard that is to do? I kept getting stuck after Z Y X. Who the hell can recite the alphabet backwards? I can’t do that shit sober, thank God I wasn’t drunk. Thank God.

I’m pretty sure that when the officer saw my face he caught that deer in the headlights look. I was ready to flash him my pearly whites, and maybe a boob. As is customary the officer asked, “Know why I pulled you over?”

Why do they ask you this question? What is the point here? A ton of stuff rolled through my mind. Did I run a stop sign? Had I turned down a One Way street? Had I killed a pedestrian and not even noticed? Maybe there was a warrant out for my arrest because I didn’t tip the nail technician at the salon earlier because she cut my toe nails so short that my toes hurt when they were exposed to wind. Or had he secretly been following us all along and he knew that I had been drinking earlier in the night? Were we going to have to give blowies to get out of this mess? What would my mom do if I called her from prison asking her to bail me out?

Um, duh. In my defense, I would just like to remind everyone that this was my first time driving the car. Then again, one of the fundamental lessons I learned 20 freaking years ago when I started driving was that you have to turn your lights on when it’s dark.

Instead, what I remember from those classes is that the most dangerous time to drive is 15 minutes after it rains because the oil on the road comes to the surface AND if you stop behind a school bus, you have to stop 15 feet away.

I believe that people know when it’s time for them to go. There are those of us that know that we have over stayed our welcome and may leave a party too late, or may be asked to leave. But when it really matters, when it’s really time, we just know it.

The last time my grandmother came to stay with us, she knew she was going to die. She had packed up her room leaving nothing behind, and when she arrived at our house, she gave us every picture she owned. She told us that she didn’t need them anymore. I thought she was being silly and told her so, and she said to me, “I’m going to die soon.” I told her not to say that, and three months later she was gone.

Several months ago, my uncle’s wife left him. She was much younger than he and decided she wanted to be with a younger man. Never mind that he had left his family long ago for her, or that they had been together for ten years. She just wanted someone younger. Perhaps the thought of having to take care of someone in his 70’s was too much for her. Perhaps she’s just a total bitch – this is what I’m sticking with. When she left, he had nothing. We found out that she had been the one supporting him.

He had no money, no wife, and could no longer afford his apartment. A few weeks after we found out that she was leaving him, he began giving away all of his things. He stopped making plans far out in advance. The joy in his life was just gone. You could see it in his face, you could hear it in his voice. When my mother told me that she thought he was preparing for his death, I told her that she was being silly. I truly believed that he was just going through a dark time and would be able to get past it.

He was admitted to the hospital a week ago Saturday, and his health has quickly deteriorated. From what I hear from my mother, it seems like he’s just lost the will to fight. My mother and my cousins want to keep fighting for him, but he has totally disengaged. He’s slowly slipping away, he’s ready to go.

My uncle and I have had a tumultuous relationship for years. I would in no way describe our relationship as close, yet knowing that he’s just given up makes me sad. He’s 74 years old, that doesn’t seem so old to me anymore. My grandmother was 83 when she died, my grandfather 86. My mother and my cousins hate his now ex wife for what she had done to him. They believe that she is at fault for everything. She probably is.

When I spoke with my mother this afternoon she told me they were moving him to intensive care. She asked me to fly down there to be with her. I leave tomorrow or Thursday for Mexico City. I doubt that he’ll make it until then. At this point in my life, it’s difficult for me to grasp why he has given up. Then again, I can’t imagine loving anyone so much that I would die without him. He is dying of a broken heart.

My mom’s house is out in the country. On most nights there are deer that will parade through her yard, and every summer they eat her hostas. She sees all kinds of birds, and – of course – there are tons and tons of bugs. For the most part she enjoys the little animal creatures that she shares her home with.

The one exception is the bats. Ever since she moved into her house she’s had several encounters with bats. Personally, I LOVE the stories. She, on the other hand, could be brought to tears when we talk about bats. The only one that has been more traumatized than my mom is my sister. My sister got really up close and personal with a bat one time. There was the time that my sister took a shower with a bat and then proceeded to freak the fuck out when she realized the bat was in there with her. Then there was the time that she saw a bat wing sweeping out from under her closet door. Some bat specialist had to come out and take the bat away. He told my sister that the bat had been hanging out in one of her shoes – but refused to tell her which shoe it was in.

My mom has been nice enough to drag other people into the mix when she’s needed help with the bats. There was an occassion when Un-boyfriend and my brother-in-law had to go over to take a bat out of the house. Somehow they managed to get it into a tupperware. They stepped outside, and my mother and sister locked the door behind them. Both my brother-in-law and Un-boyfriend figured that the bat would just fly away if they threw it out of the tupperware. When they threw the poor bat, it landed on the ground and started hissing at them. They ran screaming like little schoolgirls to the front of the house so my mom and sister would let them in.

My sister’s encounters with wild life haven’t been limited to just bats. She’s had all sorts of fun times with nature at my mom’s house. Another time she was attacked by bees in the woods behind the forest. Another time she was walking the dogs in the woods and they came across a deer that had broken its leg. The dogs proceeded to attack the poor thing while it screamed its little deer screams. My sister had to run to a neighbor’s house who ended up going out to the woods and shooting the deer.

I’m sorry! Okay?? I’m sorry that I have a life to lead and wasn’t updating you quickly enough on the breaking news I mentioned last week. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Here’s your stinking story. Let me start off by thanking each and everyone one of you that has HOUNDED me to finish the story. Oh, it’s a good one. Might I suggest that you grab yourself a drink and/or a snack and get comfortable. Ready? Here we go…

It’s been over a year since we saw each other. As a matter of fact, the last time we were together was when he was whispering sweet nothings into my mouth as we were making out in a bar parking lot (click here if you need the back story). Since that time, I found out that he had met a girl. I found out in March of this year when he came home for a visit. A bunch of us were supposed to meet up for Happy Hour, and one of my friends casually mentioned that he had brought his girlfriend with him. I decided that I would go ahead and skip the reunion. F the two of them. Now I’m kind of kicking myself because I probably would have found out that they had been together while he and I had hit it 6 ways from Sunday back on 07/07/07 and when we were making out in my car on Skanksgiving weekend. Several months later they were engaged-I found out when he updated his status on facebook.

But no! Instead, I found out when he sent me my Christmas card this year. Last year he had incuded some hot pictures of himself, this year it was a picture of him and his bride to be, plus the letter. He’s one of those douchey tool bags guys that sends a type written note updating the free world about what’s happened in the last year. He started off with the “exciting” news about the engagement (gag) and how he had tied the ring around his cat’s neck and the cat had gone over to her with the ring. I should have known when he told me he had cats that it would never work. I’m a dog person. Cat and dog people just aren’t meant to be. Gag me with the rest of the story about their stupid engagement and how happy they both are and how they’re getting married next summer. Gag.

On and on he blathered about love and blah, blah, snore, and then it got to the good part. “It’s been an exciting time for us since we started dating in March of 07…” March of 07?? That’s 4 months before he put his peen inside me!! I guess when he told me he was “single” he meant, “dating someone and I’m not going to tell you.” That dick!! Oh, but wait. It gets better. He continued with, “We also are very excited about our new home here in Douche City, which we bought at the end of last year.” The end of last year?? You mean the house that you were buying TWO DAYS AFTER you kissed me in the car and told me how nice it was to see me?? Wow, super dick!!

Look, I’m going to be honest with you: I’ve cheated on a boyfriend and I’ve been cheated on. It’s no good, I know it. Here’s the deal-when I was the other woman, at least they were up front with me. Sure, they were disrespecting their relationships, but that was on their shoulders. At the point I am in my life now, I don’t think I’d go down that road again. If he had told me that he was dating someone and buying a house with her I would have walked away. He took that option away from me when he lied to my face. TWICE. All this time I thought I knew this guy. I never in a million years would have thought him the type. Okay, cheat, whatever, none of my business-unless you drag me into this mess, in which case it’s totally my business. Man, I feel sorry for his bride to be.

So he lied, he made me the other woman, and it all came out in a Christmas card. A very Merry Christmas to you too. Why bother sending the god damned card? He better f’ing think twice if he’s thinking about sending me an invitation to that sham of a wedding.

Pretty sure that Santa is going to bring him a big fat lump of coal this year. And maybe an STD. Which he totally deserves.

I can feel myself starting to sweat a little bit, and my cheeks are starting to flush. No, I didn’t just work out. And no, I didn’t just climb off of some hot bachelor.

How on God’s green earth did I got myself into this is a mess. Oh, that’s right, I live in a smaller town than I thought I did. In less thatn 2 hours, I’ll be heading downtown to a party at 3D’s friends’ house-with his ex girlfriend.

When we were still together, I met a handful of his friends at a happy hour. I imagine that after our relationship went to shit, he told them all that I was a horrible person, a crazy heartless bitch who shattered his fragile heart into one million billion tiny pieces. Like most friends do in the midst of a breakup, I’m sure that they all agreed that I was a terrible person and swore to give me dirty looks if they ever saw me again. This is what friends are supposed to do-take your side and always hate the ex.

Tonight I’m going to be standing in a room with all of these people. I imagine walking into the party, the music coming to a stop, and everyone whispering things to one another as they shoot death stares my way. Eventually the music comes back on, but I can hear people saying, “What is SHE doing here?” or “She has some nerve showing her face around here.” Then, when I ask the hostess for a drink, I imagine her pouring me a cocktail, and then spitting into the cup right in front of me.

Thank God I’m not a drama queen or anything…

But if he walks into that house at any point that I’m there, there’s going to be some major ass drama. And with the shitastic year that I’ve had, it’s not something that I’d expect not to happen. That’s just what I need to end my year, a confrontation with 3D at party.

Oh, God. I think I’d rather get struck by a bus than have to deal with that.